So Very Close
by Seraina
Summary: The events of the past are taking their toll on the band. Especially with the Metalocalypse approaching. Loosely connected one-shots post Doomstar
1. So Very Close

"Skwisgaar?" a small voice asked as the bed shifted with the added weight. Not a lot of weight, the Swede noted.

"Whats do you wants Tokis?" pale fingers didn't even slow as the conversation started.

"Do yous… remembers my audition?" Toki asked, his voice a little more sure now.

Skwisgaar shifted to look at his bandmate. The younger man didn't look much better than he did when they rescued him. He was still pale, too thin with dark hollows under his eyes. Toki clutched his Deddy bear close to his chest as he sat on the corner of Skwisgaar's large bed. The other members of Dethklok had been careful to keep an eye on the youngest member. Nathan had made it especially clear that the lead guitarist be …nice… to his rhythm counterpart.

"Ja. I remembers. Yous played slightly less dildoes than everyone elses." He remembered that day with striking clarity… ever since he saw that flyer in the Depths of Humanity bar. "Whys ares you askings about that day?"

"Abigails tolds me to thinkgs about my happys place. I thoughts abouts that day."

"Oh. So whats abouts that day ams makings you thinks abouts it now?" Skwisgaar actually put his guitar down to face Toki, even though the other man was turned away.

"I don't wants you to think I ams goingks to be a babies about practice now." The Norwegian said quietly, still looking down. His injuries from his capture and torture were healing, but slowly. They had hastily put on a show as soon as Toki could stand upright long enough, but the stress of it had exhausted the man. And the band's medical staff hadn't yet cleared Toki for practice, let alone playing another show.

"Tokis, this is the onlys times yous ams gettinks a pass for not practicing froms me. Yous better ams being enjoyinks it."

"The reason why I messed ups the last parts," Toki started, hunching his shoulders, even though the motion hurt him a little, "I hads a fracktureds wrists and two broken fingers. And I hads beens hitchhikkings across the countries for a months befores I evens heards about the auditions."

Skwiagaar's mind boggled at the implication that Toki hadn't been at the top of his game when he's pushed Skwisgarr past his previous limit. The World's Fastest Guitarist had always counted that day as that glass ceiling shattering. He looked over at Toki again. "Tokis… whys didn'ts you tells me this befores? Especkisallies when I was makings you learns all of the songs?"

"Pickles ams the ones that tooks me to the hopsikal. Got bandaged and splinted and kepts on goingks."

"How dids you breaks your hand?" Skwisgaar had several thoughts swirling around in his mind, but that was the only one that exited his brain through his mouth.

"Befores I lefts Lillehammer, I… traded somethings for my guitar. And my mother found it. I thought…" Toki trailed off a moment, then shook his head. "I thought she would throw it aways but… instead she quilted me a guitar case and a new hat. And she told me to go aways from home. Leave and not come back. But… but my father came home early."

There was a heavy silence and Toki didn't need to finish the tale. During the telling, the Swede had inched closer to his bandmate. "Whats dids you trade? Did you… did yous trades your soul fors the guitar?" Skwisgaar whispered… his eyes round, his worldview had been shaken with Toki's truth already, he'd believe it if the other man had met the devil at a crossroads.

The sound of sarcastic laughter came from Toki Wartooth. It sounded alien. He looked at Skwisgaar with a look that most of the band leveled on Toki. That look that said 'Oh you naïve fool'. "No. I didn'ts trade my soul for the guitar."

"I ams was goings to say… you should have gotten your money back," Skwisgaar laughed, though it was a little nervous. He was still trying to compose himself after Toki caught him being very not brutal.

The younger band member turned back down to look at Deddy, hugging the little bear tightly for a long moment. He seemed lost in a memory. Skwisgaar reached out a pale hand, almost reaching for Toki's shoulder. To comfort him. But Toki turned those big blue eyes back on him and he dropped his hand.

"Anyways Skwisgaar, I wanted to tells you that I ams goings to be pracktising tomorrow. No matters what the medical gears say." And Toki Wartooth got up off the bed and shuffled slowly back to his own room.

It was a long while before Skwisgaar Skwigelf picked his Explorer back up. He found himself fingering the solo that he and Toki had played together on that first encounter. "Buts what ifs you hadn't been injured?"

That thought would haunt him for the rest of his life.


	2. The Trade

_And I just couldn't help myself. A short tag for the end._

* * *

He'd been walking for hours. The scenery didn't change much. A thick blanket of snow lay across the Lillehammer. Toki Wartooth had finally made it to his destination. The small cottage was even more remote than his father's home. Though the place looked well kept, the local rumors had it that a demon lived here.

Toki didn't believe in demons. He didn't believe in his father's god either. But he did believe in music… and the man that lived here had played the heaviest music he'd heard in all his fourteen years. He'd done enough odd jobs in town to collect some money for guitar lessons. If he had a skill, even one as sinful as playing an instrument, he would be able to escape his father's home once and for all.

The steps to the front door were clear of snow and ice, and for that Toki was grateful. His hand shook as he knocked on the door. There was a pregnant pause before the young man heard a heavy deadbolt draw back. The door didn't creak as it opened and Toki was slightly disappointed. He was having fun with the cliché.

A weathered face greeted him, giving the boy a hard stare. Toki actually took a step backwards before he remembered his manners. He pulled his cap off his head and clutched it with both hands. "Hello, sir. My name is Toki and I would like to take guitar lessons from you. I have money to pay for them." He produced a crumpled wad of assorted bills and coins.

The old man watched Toki another long moment before he backed up to let the teenager into the cabin. Strangely, Toki wasn't afraid. He followed the man inside.

"So, you wish to learn to play? I do not teach quitters, Mr. Wartooth. If you wish to learn from me, you will earn your guitar. And you will not miss a lesson."

Toki was unnerved. He hadn't told the man his last name. Nor had he mentioned having a guitar. He'd never be able to make enough for an instrument. He'd barely had enough to cover lessons. "I will work hard, sir. I promise."

* * *

The months went by, turning into years. Toki had diligently snuck out of his father's house every week to make the trek to the old man's house. The old man was called Max and he wasn't as bad as the rest of the town believed. Then again, they believed that Toki's father was a saint.

Toki was practicing on the "grandpa's guitar" that Max made him use. The black and white flying V still sat serenely on the stand where Max put it after he last touched the well-loved instrument. The sixteen year old concentrated as he worked on the latest piece.

"You're doing very well, Toki. Almost better than I expected. I believe I don't have much more to teach you." Max sat down at the kitchen table and sipped a cup of tea.

Toki looked up, trying to mask the disappointment in his eyes. "But… but what will I do now? I have some money but… but not enough for a guitar of my own."

"What about taking her?" Max got up and picked up the Flying V, offering it to the boy.

The student's fingers stilled on the old guitar, his pale eyes wide as saucers. "But Max, I couldn't… that's your guitar."

"I can't just give her to you. You'll have to trade for her. And I can't take money. She's far too special for that." Max seemed to analyze the boy as he thought.

"I don't have anything to trade. Nothing as wonderful as she is." Toki was suddenly nervous, wondering if Max wanted to do something creepy to him, even after two years.

"Toki, I hope that you don't believe I am going to molest you. That would be very disappointing."

"What? Oh.. oh no," the young man shook his head. "I know you would never do that. And I am not so inexperienced as you think." Toki paused. "I do not believe in souls, so I cannot offer you mine."

"Toki, I can assure you that you do have a soul. But you do have something I can use. Despite the hardships you have suffered, and will suffer in the future, you are full of love. There is nothing more powerful and more brutal. Don't ever let anyone tell you differently," Max took the young man by the shoulders and looked into his eyes. "In exchange for my guitar, you will know your curse. Do you still want this, Toki Wartooth?"

An eerie silence fell upon the teen as he considered his words. "My curse? What does that mean?"

"You have a destiny, Toki. One that cannot be ignored. And with greatness comes pain. I know you are familiar with physical pain. But, you will suffer much before you find your path."

"Tell me, Max. I need to know." The young man held the old man's gaze.

"Everyone you ever love will die. You will find friends, family and lovers, but you will have to watch them perish. If I give you this guitar, it will become true."

"I… I do. I know it will be hard, but… I have to do it."

The Flying V was passed from Max to Toki, the acoustic guitar forgotten. The instrument seemed to pulse with an energy even unplugged as Toki held it in his hands. When he looked up to thank Max, he found the cabin empty. The room was drafty. Wind blew through a hole in the roof. The furniture smelled of mold and rot. On the floor was the skeleton where Max had been not a moment before.

"Goodbye Max. I'm sorry that I loved you."

The young man left the run-down cabin, guitar slung across his back. The weight of the instrument felt like the weight of the world as he trudged through the snow.

* * *

Years later, Toki lay in a puddle of his own vomit. He'd passed out after a round of the spinning death wheel. Magnus's words were blurred together into one long and awful sound. He thought about Nathan, Pickles, Skwisgaar and Murderface… his family… and he tried his best not to love them. If he loved them, they would die. And he couldn't bear to lose them too. So they had to stay his brothers… and that's it. He would stop being so… not brutal… and try not to care so much. It was all he could give them. Especially Skwisgaar.


	3. Late Night

It was late at night. Or early in the morning. Mordhaus had an odd conception of time. Strangely, Nathan hadn't really seen too many clocks around the place since the remodel. Either way, he was wandering the halls now, too drunk to do anything useful or productive, but not drunk enough to pass out until tomorrow afternoon. Abigail had turned him away tonight.

Any other woman would have killed her entire family just to be offered to share the same bed with Nathan Explosion. But Abigail said no. She said she wanted to get some sleep. She hadn't been sleeping well and she had a big meeting in the morning. And yes, he understood that his girlfriend had taken up being the band's manager since Ofdessen quit, but… that just meant that they got to spend more time together, right?

Apparently it wasn't right. In fact, he'd barely even seen her in the last week. That fact alone had drove him to drink more than his usual alcohol quota that evening. And he continued drinking long after Pickles decided to call it quits. At least someone had taken all the tequila out of the house.

It wasn't long before Nathan found himself down in the depths of Mordhaus, in the recording floors. He was about to find some old tracks to listen to when he saw that one of the studios was occupied. Curiosity drove the frontman further into the depths as he sought out the culprit. He opened the door to the booth and started when he saw Toki, dressed in his pajamas, playing something heavy and slow, his back to the window. Nathan was only slightly surprised and amused when he saw Deddy Bear sitting on the console, facing the glass.

Nathan's large hand grabbed Deddy, nearly engulfing the stuffed animal. For a moment, the frontman didn't know what to do with the thing, so he sat down at the booth and set the bear in his lap. He put on a pair of headphones to listen to what Toki was playing, wondering if the kid had actually started practicing.

And Nathan Explosion was blown away by the sounds Toki had coaxed from the Flying V. Immediately, he started to record, and watched as Toki cranked out the most brutal sound in his entire career.

* * *

Almost an hour later, Toki turned around, then jumped back, startled as he saw Nathan at the booth. "Ums... hi Nat'ens. I'm sorrys for usings the studios without your permission."

"It's fine, Toki. Do you want to come out here and listen to your track?"

Toki hadn't thought of recording. He just wanted a quiet place to play where the guys wouldn't make fun of him. Where Skwisgaar wouldn't reprimand him for not playing fast. "Okays. Let me gets out of here." He lifted his guitar off and over his head, the sudden motion caused his entire back to twinge with pain. The young guitarist just took a deep breath until it subsided and forced himself out the door. He smiled when he saw Deddy sitting in Nathan's lap. He smiled a little and eased himself into the chair Pickles usually sat in.

"This is brutal, Toki. Where did this come from? Did you write it?" Nathan turned his normally glaring eyes at Toki, who just chrunk away.

"I wrotes it. Dr. Twinkletits said I shoulds try to play more. And to express my feelings. And I thought this way I could do both." Toki failed to meet Nathan's gaze as he spoke. He didn't want to feel weak in front of his leader.

"Toki, this is amazing. You should write more often"

"Thank yous, Nat'ens. I knows you don'ts likes um.. feelings. They arent's very brutal to show. But sometimes, they get inside me and need to come out. And I don'ts want to starts drinking and hitting like I did before."

If Toki had been watching Dethklok's frontman, he would have seen surprise on his face. "Uh... alright." was Nathan's only reply. "Just um... I know we're not good at... talking. But... I'm really... proud. Of you. For going through what you went through and uh... not becoming a psychopath."

Toki looked up at his friend and smiled a little. "Thanks yous Nat'ens. I wouldn'ts have gotten throughs it if Abigails wasn't there too. She's a very wonderful ladys. Don't make her go aways."

"What?" Toki didn't miss Nathan's confused expression.

"You are dating her. Don't fucks it up. Especkisallys when she's having nightmares."

"What? How did you know?"

Toki just leveled Nathan with an 'are you an idiot' look. The look they all usually reserved for Murderface. "Nat'ens, I knows what she wents through. Even though she wasn't... wasn't tortured like I was, it was still a traumaticals experience for her. So just fucking holds her sometimes, okay?"

* * *

Nathan Explosion was speechless. He couldn't believe Toki spoke to him like that. Not that anything he said wasn't true. He hadn't really dealt with what Abigail had gone through, only what he and the other guys went through to save them. He missed what Toki said next. He was surprised when the younger man reached forward and grabbed the stuffed bear from his lap.

"What?"

"Good nights, Nat'ens. Yous can use my tracks if yous wants to."

And Toki made his way back to his room.


	4. Once More, With Feeling

_Note: Had to raise the rating for this one. Also, it seems that these one-shots won't stop forming in my brain. So I hope you enjoy them while they last. I sure am._

* * *

Skwisgaar stood in the booth, glaring through the glass at Pickles and Nathan. He couldn't believe they were recording a song that _Toki Wartooth_ wrote. The lead guitar part was... slow. It was not something that appealed to the World's Fastest Guitarist. Sure Toki may be the second-fastest and possibly the second best guitarist in the world, but Skwisgaar's seat as lead was safe since he wrote all the music. He couldn't let Toki threaten him like this. Maybe Nathan and Pickles were just humoring the Norwegian. That must be it. Toki had quickly shown him the lead part before he passed out on one of the couches in the back of the studio.

"Do it again, Skwisgaar," came Nathan's rumble over the intercom. This wasn't a normal occurrence for the Swede.

"This part is dildoes, Nat'ens. Lets me ams fixing it fors yous," he whined, stepping up to the glass.

"No. Now play it right, or I'll get Toki to re-record it later."

A seething rage boiled up inside Skwisgaar. How dare they suggest such a thing! He was Skwisgaar Skwigelf, he did not need some two-bit nobody off the streets like Toki to cover for him. "I amnest goings to takes this shits from yous, Nat'ens! Stops fuckings arounds with this sillys babies song and lets me outs of here."

"Skwisgaar," Toki's blue eyes met Skwisgaar's through the glass. "What's wrongs wit de part? It isn't too hards. Yous just have to feels it."

"Little Tokis... where is the speed? There is nothings brutal about droning chords. Yous are seriouslies worrying mes wit dis songs. Feelings amnest brutal." He took a moment to try to keep his cool. He didn't want to send Toki into a catatonic trance. But it was very difficult.

Toki started to leave and Skwisgaar sighed, his fingers flying across the frets in his usual speed exercises. He hadn't notice Toki opening the door to the booth and step inside.

"I understands that you ams not feelings things. You don'ts usually feels much of anythings. But I wants you to try," Toki said quietly, so that the others, who had gone to the food table, wouldn't hear.

"Showing feelings amnest brutal, Little Toki. Hows cans this be a good sound for de new album? Nat'ens and Pickles are just going alongs to makes yous feels better."

Toki unexpectedly switched off the light in the booth, the only light came from the window to the rest of the studio. "I ams not scareds of the darks, Little Toki." Swkisgaar laughed at Toki's attempt at revenge. He was unprepared for the left hook that the younger man threw at his head. The taller man staggered back and the Explorer was pulled off him and set aside.

"What de fucks was dat for!?" Skwisgaar shouted at Toki, whose expression was strangely unreadable.

_"You don't feel a damn thing, Skwisgaar. Nothing except your big fat fucking ego!"_ Toki had effortlessly started speaking in Swedish, likely to get his point across to the other guitarist.

A punch to the gut doubled the Swede over. Another blow rained down on the back of his head blackened his vision and sent him to his knees. "T-tokis..." he tried to sputter out, then felt something tighten around his neck. He was suddenly jerked backwards by the throat, his scream cut off as he was drug backwards towards the wall. The leather of the belt bit into him as he struggled for air.

_"Just think about being alone. Unable to speak. In pain. Knowing that nobody was going to come for you because they are too busy fucking and drinking and doing crystals meth. That the people that should be there for you, always, just decided to say 'fuck it' and only do something about it when it benefitted them." _Toki continued speaking to him in Swedish as he hauled Skwisgaar up and hung the belt around his neck on a high equipment rack. Skwisgaar was finally able to breathe, but his fingers were now hooked between his throat and the leather. His head still swam as Toki put a pair of headphones on his ears. He could do nothing but stare as Toki picked up the Explorer. The next thing he saw was Toki, holding the sides of his bruised face and he said _"Guitar playing is about feeling. It isn't all speed. Slow down and FEEL it!"_

Toki started playing the part, slow and heavy, and Skwisgaar couldn't help but close his eyes and feel like he was alone in the dark with a madman. Was this how Toki spent most of his life? The throbbing in his head was building with the melody, until a change in the key made it feel like the light had been suddenly switched on. The mood changed from helplessness and fear to hope? Control? He wasn't used to... emotions. Long ago the child known as Skwisgaar Skwigelf had closed himself off to such things. When his mother was too busy with her lovers. Before he found the Explorer. The same Explorer that Toki was making sound so... magnificent. Something felt strange inside him, though he was sure it wasn't the bruised rib from Toki's beating. A feeling of power flooded him and he blinked several times, since he was imagining himself and Toki glowing.

All too soon, the music stopped and Skwisgaar felt Nathan's large hands hauling him up and off the rack. The belt was loosened from around his neck and he was sat down on the couch outside. He could vaguely register Murderface and Pickles across the room with Toki. Pickles with his arm around the younger man and Murderface ready in case Toki decided to come at any of them again.

Skwisgaar closed his eyes for a long moment as the pounding in his head subsided. Several counter melodies started threading through his thoughts... reinforcement of the part Toki had played.

_"I didn't hit you that hard. You bruise too easily,"_ Toki said, sitting down on the couch, just far enough away to give Skwisgaar some space.

_"I'm a lover, not a fighter"_ was Skwisgaar's only reply, thankful that their conversation was still private thanks to the other band members' refusal to learn another language. _"Is this how you feel all the time?"_

_"No."_ Toki shook his head, "_I felt a lot worse. Like I said, I didn't hit you that hard."_

_"Toki. I'm... sorry for... not appreciating your writing. But don't ever do that again."_ Skwisgaar had a lot more that he meant to say, but none of it would come forward. Hey, he was trying enough as it was! He didn't need to turn into a little girl over this.

_"Like you could do anything about it! I barely hit you!"_ And Toki ran over to the sound board and plucked Deddy bear off the console, where it had sat next to Nathan for the past few hours.

"Is this going to be a problem? Are you two cool now?" Nathan's distinctive rumble reached Skwisgaar's ears.

"Ja. No mores fights. I ams goings to take a breaks. I ams will be backs later to records de rhythm's parts. Keep Toki's as da lead."

And nothing else needed to be said on the matter.


	5. Keeping the Silence

Anja Wartooth had always known her son would be special. When she had first learned she was pregnant, she and Aslaug had been visited by a foreign priest. He had told them of a prophesy, one where their unborn son would be a great hero and save the people of Earth from their doom. Aslaug had been skeptical... but the man, Ishnifus, had known a great deal about the Wartooth family. The foreigner had said _something_ to her husband in hushed English that had calmed her husband.

Once their visitor had left, the two of them packed up and moved out of Lillehammer. Their lives had been set on a strict path. One of hardship and strife. They alone could shape the future of their son. The hero. The savior. It would be hard. Very hard, but it had to be done.

"Just think, Anja, our Toki will be remembered forever," her husband whispered to her. They had dared not speak too much on the subject. Their son would not be allowed to know of his destiny. He was to be raised to know hard work. They were told to be... stern.

"It is hard, my husband. To think of our son and not love him. I have been trying to think of him as... as someone else," she turned away from the stove to face her husband.

"It is the curse of my grandfather. Cursed to watch anyone he loved die. It is why he came up to the mountain to live as a hermit. We cannot let the child's love kill us before he finds his destiny. Ishnifus had said as much. And no one outside of the Wartooth line ever knew a bout the curse."

She found herself nodding, refusing to think more on the subject.

* * *

It hurt to see her son so distraught. The man that brought them to this country had said that it would be a nice story, to see Toki reunited with his parents. She was very upset that the man lied and said it had been Toki's idea. It nearly killed her to stand there and not touch him. When they had been alone, in their hotel room, she threw herself into her husband's arms and wept. Her son was terrified of her... of them. What good was destiny if it brought so much pain?

A knock on the door quieted her sobs. Aslaug quietly moved to the door, opening it a crack. It was Ishnifus, wearing ornate robes. "I am surprised to see you here, Aslaug. I had thought you had decided to leave Toki to his destiny."

"We do not wish to speak to you, priest. You have brought enough hardship upon my family," Aslaug had a hard time keeping his anger in check. Especially to the man that had set such horrible events in motion. His fingers curled around the fabric of the other man's robes.

"I bring nothing but warnings. Suggestions. If you had raised Toki in the middle of the city, just think of the deaths he would cause! Imagine that one day, the boy turns his attention to you and suddenly you are both dead. He would be moved from home to home, mysterious deaths would follow in his wake. He would be suspected as a mass murderer, a child sociopath. They would have had to create laws in order to deal with him. Explain the anomaly that he creates! At least here, like this, he is with those that are immune!. So do not blame me for his state, or your wife's tears."

The norwegian sighed and released the priest, as the man was right. "Forgive me... we had hope that... even if he did not like us, that he still wished to see us."

"No," Ishnifus shook his head sadly. "He is still fragil, in some ways. I wish you had called to tell me that he was diabetic. He nearly died eating so much candy."

The Wartooths exchanged looks, "We had suspected it. It runs in both our families, but I'm sure you can understand... we could not take him to a doctor. Questions would have been asked. And we would have broken one of your precious rules," Anja said, her stern gaze fixed on the head priest. "We had him on a strict diet. But once he left... there was nothing we could do about it. I thought your people would test him for such things. Or you would know already. Since you knew everything else." She couldn't help the bitterness in her voice. Her son had nearly died and no one had told her. "Is there anything else about my son that you would like to tell us?"

The priest looked suitably saddened. "I do apologize, Anja. Toki is fine. He is in good health now. Sometimes he gets carried away with being a little too... childish. And he lets William talk him into getting into trouble sometimes. But he is a fine young man. You should be very proud of him."

* * *

It had been over a year since her husband died, and Anja had finally decided to move back to the city. She never wanted for money, since Toki had sent quite a sum to them over the years. She couldn't quite understand why... if she were in his shoes, she would have cut all ties, but her son was special. He had even forgiven Aslaug of all the abuse. Her son had even spared him of further suffering... by loving him and ending his pain.

She had been worried lately though. A man had called her a few months ago to tell her that her son had been taken. Ishnifus had come in person to tell her that Toki would not be killed. It was then that she had tried to stop listening to the media. All those horrible rumors about what her son had been up to.

A phone call disturbed her thoughts. That was still something she needed to get used to. "Hello?"

"Hello Mother," came the tired voice of her son.

"Toki! Are... are you well?" The shock of him calling her made her heart flutter.

"Yes... I... somebody told me you had a telephone now. I... wanted to call you to tell you that I'm okay. I'm back home"

"I'm glad, Toki. And yes, I moved into Lillehammer. The house was too empty," She tried to keep her voice even. Quiet. Tried to keep the emotions at bay. This was bordering on the longest conversation she'd ever had with her son.

"Oh. Good. Maybe I'll... visit. Sometime."

"That would be nice, Toki. I will take you to meet your aunts and uncles and cousins."

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. Anja was worried that Toki had hung up on her.

"Yes... that would be... nice. I didn't know I had any."

"You do. They didn't approve of your father. But since he's been gone... I have started to try to reconnect with my family," that had been a difficult road, but she had visited her younger sister several times in the past year.

"Oh. Alright," there was another long pause. "I should go. But... I was told to tell you that... Ishnifus Meaddle is dead."

Now that was... surprising. The old priest... dead. "Toki... how did he die?"

"Oh. I don't know. I wasn't there. I was just handed a note."

"I see. Thank you for letting me know. It must be late where you are. I won't keep you." She watched the clock on the wall tick, counting the heartbeats until her son spoke again.

"Yes. Goodbye Mother," and Toki hung up the phone.

Anja wiped the tears from he eyes. Toki was safe. And he had spoken to her. Her heart soared... she would get to know her son at last! And maybe after that, she would get to join her beloved Aslaug.


	6. All Hands

Pickles was tired. He loosened his tie and threw himself onto one of the couches in the living room. Murderface had left the TV on, one of those awful and dry Civil War documentaries played. The drummer couldn't bring himself to care. Ever since Offdensen had left them, and Toki and Abigail had been rescued, Pickles was attempting to be more responsible and pick up the slack. Abigail was settling in as their new manager and CFO, but Pickles had been filling her in on the inner-workings of Dethklok. Sure, Pickles was used to being drunk and high all the time, but he was also the only member of the band that could read and understand a contract.

Damien Cornickelson was trying to get Dethklok kicked our of their contract, even though having the band signed made them the biggest record company in the world. Pickles groaned at the thought of them having to keep Damien happy and record this album. At least Toki had stepped up. Maybe they could get Murderface involved too?

That thought alone made the drummer grin as he summoned a klokateer. "Hey, where's everyone else? Are they still in the basement?"

"Yes, Lord. All except Lord Murderface," the gear answered with a bow.

Pickles sighed and got up off the couch. He'd better see what the others were up to now. He hadn't seen Nathan this focused in a long time.

What he saw when he got down there, though, made him want to start drinking. "What in the hell is going on down here?!" Pickles raised his voice to be hear over the sounds of the argument. Nathan was staring Murderface down. Toki's Flying V looked like it had been thrown. Skwisgaar was making a valiant attempt at holding Toki away from the bassist. And Murderface's right hand, which was still bandaged after a few weeks, was dripping blood on the carpet.

"Look, guys... all I'm saying is that maybe Toki needs a little break. Before he goes completely psycho on the rest of us! I mean... look what he did to Skwisgaar!" Murderface pointed with his injured hand, flecks of dark blood flying everywhere. "But I bet he _liked_ it!"

"That's ENOUGH!" Nathan growled, nearly picking Murderface up by the front of his shirt. "Skwisgaar, take Toki upstairs. Get some food. Take a break." Nathan's tone indicated that this was an order that needed to be followed. "Pickles..."

Pickles caught Nathan's gaze and straightened, followed it to where the first-aid kit was kept. After the incident with Toki and Skwisgaar, the frontman and drummer agreed to keep a well-stocked kit in the room. Just in case. Pickles brought the box over as Nathan forced Murderface into a chair. At least he was being quiet right now.

"How long has your hand been fucked up?" came Nathan's growl. Pickles set himself to the task of taking care of the bassist's hand. Nathan could be the authoritarian now. The drummer didn't want to have to make any more decisions today.

"I don't know... I cut myself... before we rescued Toki," Murderface mumbled.

"Why didn't you go to the medical gears?"

"I did! How do you think it got bandaged so nicely?" Murderface started. "But it just won't heal. I keep telling you guys!"

Pickles was unprepared for the sight of Murderface's hand. The wound was oozing puss and blackish blood. The veins in his hand were starting to look funny. Murderface's usually clammy had was hot and the stench... "Doood!" he shouted, dropping the man's hand in disgust. "This is totally infected man! Get yer ass to the doctor right now!"

Nathan called several klokateers to ensure Murderface got to the medical wing safely. Pickles felt the very strong urge to wash his hands... which he did... until his skin was raw.

"If they cut off his hand, we're fucked."

Pickles laughed weakly and turned around. "Yeah. I mean, not a lot of bassists can get into that heavy mindset. Nobody comes close. And there's no way I'm doing another audition. Especially now. If that bastard loses his arm, he's going to learn to play with his feet. Or something!"

"I know what you mean. I meant what I told him. I'd go get Murderface from the depths of hell, but... fuck... let us get a break for at least a month," Nathan sat down hard on the couch. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. He probably hadn't.

"So the meeting went okay. I know it would've been better with Offdensen. But we did our best."

"Thanks Pickles. For stepping up and all that shit. I know you hate it," Nathan patted the drummer on the shoulder awkwardly.

"Hey, at least I know how to do something. You know? There's too much going on to just sit down and get drunk. Even though I'm thinking of doing that right now."

Nathan's laughter rumbled through the room. Another Klokateer came in with beers. And the large frontman went to the console and flipped a switch. "Hey, check this out."

Pickles nearly did a spit take. "Whoa, is that Skwisgaar? That's fast, even fer him!"

"Yeah, the thought of another punch to the face was a great motivator. Thankfully the violence was kept to a minimum... until Murderface got here," Nathan picked up the stuffed bear that was on the console. His hand engulfed the bear's whole head.

"Where the hell is Knubbler? Isn't he our engineer now?" Pickles asked, watching Nathan with Deddy.

"Fuck if I know. That's what Murderface was going on about. I asked Abigail to call him in for this, but I guess he's not answering. Though Deddy is a hell of a lot easier to work with."

Pickles laughed again, they were being productive... thankfully they were still too tense to be happy. Which was good... Nathan usually threw countless hours of work away when he was happy.

"I'll see what I can do about Knubbler. I think we'll need all the help we can get soon."

It was a sobering thought. Their actions now would determine the fate of the world.

So they both grabbed a beer and started to drink.


	7. Infatuation

Skwisgaar stalked the halls of Mordhaus late at night. The others had turned in early, early for them anyway. Nathan had stopped himself from staying up all night in the studio and went to Abigail's room. Pickles had gone to his room to pass out after playing Mr. Businessman. Murderface was still in the infirmary, drugged out of his mind so that he wouldn't chew his own arm off. Maybe it would improve his playing? Skwisgaar laughed to himself. Though his current focus was Toki.

Ever since the fight in the studio, he couldn't get his mind off the Norwegian. Nobody had ever... ever manhandled him like that. But then again, Toki had always pushed him to be better, greater. And the music he had written after the incident was pure genius.

He couldn't stop thinking about the Norwegian. His face. His body. The way he laughed and said "wowee" at the dumbest things. Oh Skwisgaar... what have you gotten yourself into? He had tried to search the Internet for ways to approach Toki with his newfound... infatuation. But all he found were smutty stories and weird drawings. It seemed like a lot of fans would love to see him and Toki as... as a couple. Strange, but with his thought process recently...

He stood outside Toki's door, putting his hand on the wood. He strained his ears to listen. Was he asleep in there? There was a muffled sound of... something. A soft cry.

The Swede pushed open the door, if Toki was in trouble...

Skwisgaar expected Toki to be in the throws of a nightmare. But he hadn't expected to see Toki and... and some woman coupled together on the too-small bed. Toki on top, the scars on his back plainly visible. He stood frozen to the spot, his mouth hung open. Who... who was that? Why was she with his Toki? Toki didn't do more than makes out with the groupies... he didn't... fuck them.

_"Skwisgaar! Get out!"_ Toki shouted in Norwegian. It was enough to get the lead guitarist to back out of the room and shut the door behind him.

"What de fucks just happened?" He turned and went back to his room, trying to process this new information. Toki didn't fuck girls. Toki was innocent. Special. Toki was infatuated with him. Skwisgaar. And had been since he let the kid into the band all those years ago.

Maybe he was thinking about this the wrong way. What did she look like? Pale? Thin? Blonde? Maybe Toki was trying to fill the void with a surrogate Swede... but no... she had a darker skin tone. Brown hair. Curves. What was Toki thinking? How could he just do this to him?

* * *

It was some hours later when Skwisgaar's door opened. "What de fucks is wrong wit yous?" Toki started, his arms crossed over his chest. He had put on some pajamas and a robe. He had showered as well it seemed.

_"What the hell were you doing, barging into my room like that?"_ Toki started slowly, speaking Swedish to make sure his words got across. It worked the last time, didn't it?

Skwisgaar just looked up at him, still dressed from before. He hadn't bothered to take off his clothes. He hadn't slept yet either. _"Who was that, Toki? You hiding a woman from us?"_

_"She works in the medical wing as an administrative assistant. I met her while visiting Murderface. I was lonely and so was she, so I took her to my room. It was nice, to be wanted for once. Even if it was so she could fuck a member of Dethklok."_ Toki sounded so, serious? Accepting of a situation that he didn't like.

_"I just thought... that you were crying. I was trying to be nice."_

_"You are not nice, Skwisgaar. You are a selfish asshole. So tell me again, why were you lurking outside my room?"_

_"How did you know?"_ the Swede sat up on the bed to face the younger man.

_"I put a webcam in the hallway. So I could see who was outside my room. I can see shadows under my door, you idiot. It's not like I have a huge room like the rest of you. Single bed. One desk. One chair. No window."_

_"Don't be like that, Toki"_ Skwisgaar pleaded. What did the size of his room have to do with any of this? It just seemed like irrelevant complaints. Maybe Toki was just trying to blame his bed for that woman being unsatisfied? This entire night had been a disaster. He hoped Toki would calm down soon.

_"And what? Just take your leftovers? I'm allowed to want things on my own, you know!"_

_"And your want of friends is what got you kidnapped in the first place!"_ The words came out too fast. He hadn't had the chance to reign them in before they escaped.

Toki flinched back, as if Skwisgaar had punched him. His eyes went wide with surprise, then pain before he looked away.

"Toki..." Skwisgaar tried again in English, slipping off the bed and moving over to his younger bandmate.

The Norwegian was still tense, his body guarded, though he seemed to be in another place mentally. Skwisgaar didn't know what to do. He just acted. Pressing his lips against Toki's.

A startled cry and a hard shove sent Skwisgaar to the floor for his efforts. "Whats de fucks was that? I ams not gay, Skwisgaar! I don'ts wants yous to be kissings me!" Toki wiped at his mouth with the sleeve of his robe, like a child thinking he got cooties. Skwisgaar was confused. Toki wasn't supposed to push him away. That's not how those fanfiction stories went. Toki was supposed to want him.

"Buts... Is... " Skwisgaar stammered, looking up at Toki helplessly from the floor. What was he supposed to do now?

_"You are my brother, Skwisgaar. I never wanted you as a boyfriend or a lover. I like women. I don't like groupies. I used to look up to you and admire you. Now? Now you're as much as a mess as I am. But at least a handful of pills from Twinkletitts are helping me. I don't belong to you, Skwisgaar. So stop being so selfish to think that everything I do is dependent on you. And stop reading the Internet! Fans fiction is horrible and degrading!"_ and Toki turned and stormed out, back to his room or... wherever. Leaving a bewildered Skwisgaar behind.


End file.
